


Studio 54

by kaianieves



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Disco, F/F, Intoxication, Panic Attack, Reader is black, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-09-07 14:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaianieves/pseuds/kaianieves
Summary: You invite Rowena to a Studio 54-themed costume party. Through the flashing neon lights, dancing and 70′s music, your feelings for her become too much to keep a secret. Reader is black.





	Studio 54

**Author's Note:**

> This is imported from my Tumblr blog. I didn't edit it, spare a few typos, so it is just as it is posted there.

A/N: Prompt (so I don’t forget it this time, jesus): “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me.” Reader is black.

“So, I have this friend,” I said.

“Good for you,” Rowena said, not looking up from the spell book in front of her.

“And he’s throwing this party at his apartment, and I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come with me?” I asked, trying to be as casual as possible. It wasn’t like it was a date or anything. Not that I’d be complaining if it was.

Rowena looked up from the book. “What type of party is it?” she sighed.

I perked up at that. “It’s sort of a costume party. Studio 54, circa 1979,” I explained. Rowena smiled, which caught me off guard. “What?” I asked.

“I remember Studio 54. Andy Warhol, Grace Jones… I think I spotted Michael Jackson once, too,” she said fondly. She looked back at me.

I had to pick my jaw up off the floor. This woman was amazing. “You’ve been inside Studio 54. Like, when it was still operational?” I asked.

“What else would you do with immortality, dear?” Rowena asked.

Three days later, I was fixing my cheetah print leggings in the mirror, waiting for Rowena in the bathroom. “Hey, are you almost ready?” I asked.

“Almost. But I’m having trouble with this wig, and the belt is being very uncooperative,” she said through the door. We were dressed as Pat Cleveland and Jerry Hall, respectively. I walked away from the mirror and over to the bathroom door.

“Can I come in?” I asked, knocking.

“Mhm,” was the mumble through the door. I opened it to see Rowena, lacy top and floral maxi skirt in full glory. She was fidgeting with a the long blonde wig on top of her head, trying to make it look right. I walked up behind her, moving her hands and the wig away from her head. I combed through her hair with my fingers, flattening it.

“There. You look better as a redhead, anyway,” I said. I looked down at her belt, avoiding her reaction to what I’d just said. “Can I?” I asked, motioning to the belt.

“Sure,” she said. I caught the two ends of leather hanging from her hips, wrapping it around her waist another time before tying a small knot at the front of the belt.

“You look great,” I said, moving my hands away from her. We stared at each other in the mirror for a moment before Rowena cleared her throat.

“We should get going,” Rowena said, stepping around me and out of the bathroom.

“Um, yeah. Yeah, let’s go,” I agreed.

One short cab ride later, and we were in front of my friend’s condo. “It’s not West 45th Street, that’s for sure,” Rowena said, staring up at it. I laughed, shaking my head and heading towards the large glass entrance doors.

The elevator ride was quiet, until, “You look great as well,” Rowena said. I looked at her briefly in surprise. It was well known that Rowena rarely gave genuine compliments. “Almost as beautiful as the real Pat Cleveland, if that were possible,” Rowena smiled a little.

“You know–” she began, but she was cut off by the elevator chiming, the doors sliding open. There was a trail of pink confetti on the floor. Rowena and I looked at each other before stepping out of the elevator. We followed the confetti to apartment 54. Convenient.

Behind the door was blasting music, which became clearer when I opened the door. ‘Going Back To My Roots’ faded out quickly, followed by 'Got To Be Real’ by Cheryl Lynn. Inside, records of the most popular musicians and singers of the late seventies lined the walls. People were dressed fairly realistically. It felt like a pretty realistic costume shop specializing in all things seventies had puked all over the luxury apartment. There was a giant, fake white horse in the middle of the floor.

“Okay, more impressive,” Rowena looked around, nodding. My smile felt like it was going to split my face open, and I was perfectly fine with that. She went further onto the dance floor, eventually forgetting the world around her and started dancing. It was amazing.

I started dancing as well, glancing at her letting lose every once in a while. Eventually I met my friend, Cam, at the bar. We were downing Harvey Wallbangers like nobody’s business.

“So, where’s lady luck in this crowd?” he asked. I nodded towards Rowena, who was currently disco-ing the night away. “Ooh, redhead. She’s hot,” and then, “She does know that’s more of an eighties thing, right?”

“Oh, she definitely knows,” I said, drinking the last of my fifth drink of the night. 'YMCA’ faded into 'Ladies Night’ by Kool and The Gang. Cam eyed me expectantly.

“What?” I giggled.

“It’s ladies night,” he said, lightly pushing me off my seat. “Go get your lady. And make sure it’s not a Corpse Reviver kinda' morning tomorrow. I don’t enjoy making Prohibition drinks.” With that, he winked, disappearing from the bar and back into the crowd.  
I sauntered over to Rowena, messing with my afro a little. When I got to her, she grabbed my shoulders and we started dancing. Everything was perfect. I was here, the neon lights occasionally catching us and our intimate moments. We were shimmying, and her nose brushed mine. Then she started playfully grinding on me. That’s when I started thinking again.

Rowena will never love you. She doesn’t even see you past your usefulness.

This is for her. She doesn’t know you exist outside of this. You just happen to be here.

Go home, Y/N. You’re just a stupid girl with a stupid crush.

My alcohol steeped brain was churning out insults, and I suddenly felt like I was drowning. Drowning in the lights, drowning in the music, the people. Drowning in love. I ran out of the crowd, hyperventilating, looking for a bathroom. I didn’t stick around long enough to see Rowena’s face of concern.

As I closed the bathroom door, I could hear the music change to Bees Gees' 'Tragedy’. How suiting. Me, I was the tragedy. Shaking, makeup a mess. I took deep breaths trying to calm down.

The bathroom door swung open, revealing a couple sucking each other’s faces off. “Get out!” I yelled, shoving them out of the way and slamming the door behind me. I rested against it, slowing falling to the floor as I started crying. I just needed to get home. I could probably sneak past Rowena and Cam and grab another cab.

There was a sudden noise, banging on the door vibrating through to my spine. I stood up, wrenching the door open. “What the fu–” Rowena pushed me inside the bathroom, closing the door behind her. “What are you–”

“What in the bloody hell are you doing?” she asked. “Is there something wrong? Did someone hurt you, because I–” she interrupted, and I interrupted her.

“No Rowena. I’m… I’m fine. It’s not a big deal,” I said. She gave me her pissed off look of persistence and disbelief. My brain was screaming to shrug it off, get out of there. Go home. My lips didn’t want to listen.

“It’s you, Rowena. It’s you, that’s my problem,” I said. “Because I know you hate me, I know that, and this is just stupid, convenient fun. But, I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me. Because I know-” My voice cracked, and I took a moment to try and collect myself. “Because I know you won’t ever feel the same.”

She looked at me, as if processing everything I’d just said. Then she rushed forward and kissed me. It was a passionate kiss, as fiery as her hair. I stuck my fingers in it, pulling her face closer.

“Wait, wait,” Rowena said, pulling back. “You’re a drunken fool right now, and I know Drunk you wants this, but it’s Sober you that get’s to make those decisions.”

I frowned, holding onto her shoulders. Then I smiled. “I am kinda tired,” I said.

“Exactly, Y/N. You’re tired. So let’s just go home, and we’ll sort things out tomorrow,” she said, wrapping her arm around my waist as we exited the bathroom. 'Music and Lights’ by Imagination was playing, even drunk me could tell you that. Cam shot Rowena a wink and a smile as we headed towards the door.

In the cab, I rested my head on her shoulder. “Promise me when we get home, we’ll cuddle like it’s 1979?” I asked.

“Whatever you want,” she said, stroking my forehead. “Just don’t hurl on me.”


End file.
